A Devil in the Dark
by Daxxers
Summary: Something haunts the lower levels of Tymora's temple. A reliquary has been looted, the entombed have been disturbed, and priests have gone missing. Daelynn – elf, rogue, and the goddess' Divine Seeker – searches the catacombs to learn what threatens the temple.
1. 1 - What Lies Below?

**Daelynn – Story 6 – ****A Devil in the Dark**

_Something haunts the lower levels of Tymora's temple. A reliquary has been looted, the entombed have been disturbed, and priests have gone missing. Daelynn – elf, rogue, and the goddess' Divine Seeker – is sent below to discover what threatens the temple.__ (Not__ Beta-read. Hope you enjoy. Constructive criticism is welcome.)_

**Chapter 1 – What Lies Below**

Many of the acolytes found it un-nerving to have to retrieve or store items in the Temple's lower vaults, especially at night. With lanterns lit, junior priests, and even some of the more senior clergy, travelled in twos, and made jokes to stave off that nameless dread that accompanied their passage through the silent, dark, deserted corridors. Several priests, reliable elder brothers, had seen the dark form slinking through the lower levels. No longer rumor or ghost story – something lurked beneath Tymora's Temple. Tonight, there was no humor in the stories told at the communal dining table.

At the end of that day's vesper service, Mistress Alline stood, and in place of a benediction, addressed Tymora's gathered clergy.

"I have heard the stories regarding a 'monster' haunting our Temple's lower levels. This gossip, not a practice of which I approve, must stop. No two tales agree on anything – it is tall and thin, or short and fat; it is fanged, or has claws, or carries a sword. It is a beast, or maybe a man. Really! The rumormongering ends, now! I shall Commune with Tymora, tonight, and learn what it is that has her priests acting like frightened children. Return to your cells. Say your prayers. And Tymora's blessings be upon you."

Once the priests and lay clergy had filed out of the chapel, Alline turned and spoke to the lone remaining cleric.

"Master Kelln, where are Brother Gregory and Sister Iliss? They had better not be… entwined… in his cell again!"

Kelln, one of the Temple's most senior priests, heir apparent to Alline's exalted station, and the appointed ward of the neophyte clerics, hid a small smile from his Preceptress.

"Sister Iliss has been excused from her temple duties. A family matter", intoned the man. "As for Brother Gregory, I sent him to the Reliquary to fetch a more formal altar cloth for The Smiling Lady's Feast Day."

Kelln paused. "He should have been back by now. He may have decided to not attend the vesper service, believing his errand earned him merit."

Preceptress Alline's brow started to furrow. Kelln quickly assured his superior that he would check on Brother Gregory's whereabouts, then hurried off to do just that.

Having the chapel to herself, Alline stood in front of the small altar, adjusted her robes and focused her breathing. It was time to consult Tymora, and assuage the wholly unjustified fears of her clergy. Clasping her holy symbol, she began to Commune with her goddess.

After a lifetime of devotion to The Smiling Lady, Alline found most of her prayers quickly answered and almost always with that flash of the goodwill, if not outright humor, for which Tymora was known. But tonight, it was if the goddess had been waiting for Alline to call. Answers came almost before the questions could be asked. The cleric sensed a dread-filled urgency behind the soundless voice that echoed inside her head, answering her three questions. _There is a danger to the Temple. It comes from the Underdark. Brother Gregory is with his Goddess._


	2. 2 - The Messenger

**Chapter 2 – The Messenger**

Daelynn easily parried the downward blow, deftly turning her opponent's sword aside and leaving him open to a counter-attack. She pivoted on her right leg, leaned back, and drew her left leg up to her hip. She quickly straightened her leg, forcefully striking her adversary on his hip with her heel, sending him stumbling backwards.

"Fifth hit", the instructor called out, signalling the end of the bout.

Daelynn nodded to her opponent, bowed to the instructor, and walked over to the weapons rack, returning her borrowed wooden training sword to its place. Her opponent limped over and placed his practice weapon beside hers.

"Can't say you got lucky. That was three straight hits against me", the large, young man commented, in his clipped northern accent.

Daelynn smiled up at her friend. "I believe that you now owe me, what? Five silvers, Thursk? If you do not have the coin, then ale is acceptable."

The big northerner laughed. "That's the beauty of betting against you, my elf friend. You accept payment in form other than coin. You choose ale, and I drink most of it! Losing to you is not so bad."

The elf laughed at her friend's reasoning, agreeing that, win or lose, the big northerner did seem to get the better part of the wagers they made.

"That was the last session we had to make up", observed the elf. "If you had fewer gods to worship, Norther, then you would not have missed so many classes!"

"Humph. True. My tribes'… what did Master Gralz call it? Our…pantheon… is large and as an adult male, until I choose one god to follow, I must honor them all. Makes for a lot of fasting and praying. But the worst is the abstinence rule!"

Daelynn laughed again. "Are you any closer to making a choice?"

Thursk grimaced and shook his head. "Nope. I keep waiting for an omen, a sign, something to show me the way to go, but none of my gods seem to want me. I perceive nothing."

"Hmm. Perhaps you should choose a goddess", teased Daelynn.

Her friend scowled at her. "You have the same odd sense of humor as my sister. So, not funny at all."

"Which sister is that? Karelia?"

"No, um. The third one, Bessa".

"Ah. I will not debate your tribe's wisdom of selecting one's patron deity based on one's own gender, but my offer stands. I am sure that my father would be happy to speak to you about his patron."

"Thank you, Daelynn, but let us leave such heavy talk for another time. Instead, you can tell me why it is that you've missed so many classes. I have heard more than one Master of the College say that you're a gifted student, but attendance is an issue. What is it that takes you away from your studies? Sarise suspects it is a boy."

Daelynn turned away from Thursk's inquisitive stare.

"She would, for that is Sarise's weakness. As for me…. it's an elf thing", she replied. "We are long-lived, so what is not done today can be completed tomorrow, or next year, or in the next ten-year. I am in no hurry to complete my training as a Herald."

"Your weapons' skills have grown, greatly, this past year. Is that also an 'elf thing'?"

"Private tutor," answered Daelynn. A quick glance showed her that Thursk was still looking at her. He appeared less than convinced by her answers.

In silence, the two friends walked across the training floor, and exited the small arena which stood near the southern exit of the Herald's College. Leaving the college grounds, they wished each other a pleasant night and parted ways, Thursk turning westward and heading to his rooming house, Daelynn bearing to the east and her uncle's abode.

The sun had been long set by the time the elf reached her home. She found a grey-robed and cloaked, young human male sitting uncomfortably on the tall metal fence that separated her uncle's property from the cobbled street. Below the youth, a large brindle mastiff sat. The hound's eyes were locked on what he supposed was an intruder and a threat to his mistress' life and property.

"How may I help you?" Queried Daelynn, looking up at the young man.

The youth essayed a feeble wave, but quickly drew his hand back as he started to sway forward. He pointed to the dog below him. "Could you call off your watchdog, ma'am?'

"Certainly. As soon as you tell me your business here. Let's start with your name."

"Quintin", the youth answered. "I am a novice at Tymora's Temple. I come with a message for the lady of the house."

"Oh?" The elf was puzzled. Direct contact at her home by Alline was a breach of their agreement. This must be urgent. "And what is it that Mistress Alline desires of me?"

"Ah, my Lady. It was Master Kelln sent me here. He asks that you come, immediately. It is terrible. Evil has beset Tymora's place of worship!"

With a soft word and a gesture, Daelynn released her dog and sent him to sit on the front steps of the house. She motioned for Quintin to climb down. Slowly, and gracelessly, the youth scrambled to the paving stones. As his feet touched the ground, the dog sat up and growled.

"Big-Boy, at ease", Daelynn commanded. The mastiff eyed his mistress, then sat back down, but kept a solemn gaze on Quintin.

"Why did Kelln, Brother Kelln… and not Mistress Alline, send you?" The elf tried to keep her voice respectful when using Kelln's name, but it took effort. As a matter of course, Kelln would breach protocol where Daelynn was concerned. The man was insufferable.

The acolyte glanced at the large dog, swallowed, then turned his attention to the beast's mistress. He had not been told that he was delivering a message to one of the fair folk. The young elf woman was tall, taller than he, and dressed in modest but brightly colored pantaloons, blouse, and cape. Her dark hair was worn loose; a stray lock fell across her forehead. She was staring at him with amazing violet eyes that seemed to deepen to a purple, as she waited for his reply.

Shaking his head, Quintin gathered his thoughts and hurriedly told Daelynn all that Master Kelln had asked him to relay. There had been stories of a strange creature haunting the Temple's lower levels'; Mistress Alline had Communed with Tymora; she then led a group of priests to the Reliquary where they had found Brother Gregory's body. He, Quintin, had not been there, but a priest had described the terrible wounds on the young priest's corpse. Mistress Alline had then ordered the entire group to the south quire, and commanded them to report all they had seem to Master Kelln. She, the Preceptress, had stayed below. Kelln had been furious with the priests for leaving the Preceptress unattended. Kelln and two other senior priests hurriedly donned armor, and grasping weapons, rushed to the Reliquary.

They had returned several minutes later, looking stricken and pale. They reported that Brother Gregory's body was gone, and that there was no sign of Mistress Alline.

Brother Kelln had then taken charge of the Temple, closed all doors, set armed and armored elder brothers to patrolling the ground floor, and forbade any to enter a lower level. He then sent Quintin to retrieve the Lady who lived in the silk merchant's home on this street.

Quintin had found the gate open, so had entered the yard. That was when the ferocious, baying mastiff, appearing out of thin air, had set upon him. Quintin had barely been able to reach the top of the fence and safety. As testament to his narrow escape from the jaws of the terrible beast, the young man pointed to a scrap of grey cloth laying in the yard, which he said had been torn from his robe. With the gate open, he could not climb down the fence to the street, as the dog could reach him there, too. He had been waiting at least an hour.

Daelynn would have found Quintin's encounter with Big-Boy amusing, if it were not for the troubling tale he had told. Bidding both boy and beast to stay where they were, Daelynn entered the house. Several minutes passed. Long minutes for Quintin, who was certain his fate was to be eaten by the largest dog he had ever seen.

A few moments after that unsettling thought had come to Quintin's mind, the elf maid returned to the yard. No longer dressed in bright colours, she now wore non-descript clothes of a brown or reddish hue, and sported a long, dark blue cloak in place of the bright cape. A sword was secured to her back, and a long knife was strapped to her left thigh. Her loose, wavy and becoming dark hair was now confined by a leather braided band that held a metal disc or silver coin in its center and above her shining eyes.

"Try to keep up," ordered Daelynn, as she set off for the Temple Quarter at a brisk stride. Alline was in danger. Her pace quickened.


	3. 3- The Reliquary

**Chapter 3 – The Reliquary**

"You are acting the fool, Kelln", hissed Daelynn, trying to keep her voice low. A few senior priests and priestesses looked over to the two figures standing at the far end of the quire. Voices carried in the temple.

"Mistress Alline's orders were to send for you, elf, if she should ever be laid low, die, or be absent and a situation arose that affected the Temple. Why you, I don't know", sneered the prelate. "Alline went missing, and so I sent for you. She left no other orders regarding you, Lady Daelynn. I have followed her commands, to the letter. You will wait here while the clerics of Tymora search for their Preceptress, and expunge whatever evil lies below."

"More of your clerics could be hurt or killed, if they go below", argued Daelynn. "You know not what you face. Surely my plan is better? Let me scout ahead. I would be far less obtrusive, and much quieter than metal clad warrior-priests knocking about in the dark!"

Kelln was adamant. The Preceptress' elven friend and 'student' was to stay in the nave, or she could leave the Temple. It would soon be dawn; Tymora's clergy gathered to prepare their orisons and weapons. At sunrise, they would march _en mass_ below ground and scour the lower levels. They would find Mistress Alline, and dispatch whatever dark forces scurried about below.

To emphasize his point, and signify that there would be no more talk about the matter, Kelln turned his back to Daelynn and walked away. The elf maid's eyes shone a deep purple, indicating a great anger. But she held her tongue, and her blade stayed sheathed. From her discussion, or rather her argument, with Kelln, it was obvious that Alline had not informed her second-in-command of Daelynn's role as Tymora's Divine Seeker. Well then, if the Preceptress did not see fit to tell Master Kelln that the elf was favoured of Tymora, then Daelynn was not going to.

It would be a few hours until all the priests and acolytes could be gathered and prepared to wage war on a nameless, unknown, but deadly, creature. In that time, who knew what might befall Alline?

Daelynn exited the quire and walked to the back of the nave, which was one of the more poorly lit parts of the Temple. She sat down in a pew and bowed her head, looking every inch the concerned, prayerful adherent. Tymora's clergy were far too busy preparing themselves to rescue their Mistress, or exchanging rumors, or praying for Tymora's guidance and strength, to notice that the elf maid who had had such a heated exchange with Master Kelln, was now nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Daelynn's knowledge of the Temple, while not as extensive as Alline's, was better than that of many of the priests. The Divine Seeker had skulked about the edifice for many months, learning a great deal about the Temple, its inhabitants, and how to best get from any one point to another with the least chance of being seen or heard.

It took only a few moments to exit the nave, slip down a side passage, cross a communal eating area, and find a lesser known staircase that led to the lower levels. The staircase was watched by a young female acolyte, armed with a stout war staff. The woman paced back and forth down a short stretch of hallway, always within a few yards of the stairs. Daelynn pulled her cloak tight about her, invoked _Sacred Stealth_, and in the dim light of flickering torches, silently passed by Kelln's guard, un-noticed.

The staircase descended for some thirty feet, opening onto a large storage room lit by several small lanterns hung on the walls. A steep ramp at the far end of the room sloped downwards, its lower end lost in darkness. This was as far as Daelynn's earlier explorations of the Temple had taken her, but she knew from discussions with Mistress Alline that she had to descend still further to reach the Reliquary. Touching the amulet over her brow, she whispered a command, in elvish. The disc flared brightly, illuminating everything in her path up to ten yards' distance. Beyond that, all was blackness.

Daelynn descended the ramp. On a wall facing the base of the ramp was a brass plaque. On the plaque were the words _Reliquary_ and _Crypt_, with arrows pointing in opposite directions; left to the Reliquary, right to the Crypt. She supposed that the Crypt held the remains of senior priests and past Preceptor's, and perhaps faithful, wealthy patrons. It was common custom in the city for senior clergy to be entombed beneath temples, while common priests were buried in more modest mausoleums, or even poor graveyards, outside the city.

Turning left, Daelynn followed narrow, winding corridors to the Reliquary. Torchlight from inside the Reliquary spilled out into the corridor. With another command, the elf extinguished the light from the disc and again invoked _Sacred Stealth_. Creeping closer, she peered around the doorpost into the large, stone-walled, low ceilinged room. There was no Alline, and Brother Gregory's body had been removed. In the middle of the small room there was a large dark patch on the floor that looked to be dried blood.

Having raided reliquaries of opposing deities, Daelynn knew the holy items would be protected by more than priests, doors and locks. She pondered if any trap set to protect Tymora's sacred relics would discriminate between a common thief and the Goddess' own Divine Seeker? Best not to put that to a test, she decided.

The elf knelt beside the door and closely examined the floor and doorpost. She lightly traced the stone blocks, wooden doorpost, jamb, and lintel with her fingers. Stepping back from the door and the hidden pressure plate that covered the entrance, Daelynn moved to the hallway wall across from the open doorway. She noticed three small slits in the stone work, all at waist level, and about the width of a fine blade. Nodding to herself, the elf moved back down the hall, examining the stones that made up the wall.

She found the false stone block about fifteen feet back the way she had come. It took only a moment to figure out the latching mechanism. Removing the fake stone cover revealed a simple switch, a small lever, set into the wall. It was in the 'up' position, which in most instances meant it was not armed. She lightly toggled the switch - it was loose, so not set or locked. It likely controlled whatever was to be released from the three slits in the stone wall. Spinning blades, were a good assumption.

Returning to the doorway and the pressure plate, Daelynn looked up to four round holes in the lintel, each wider than the diameter of her thumb. What could be released from there? Spikes? Acid? Daelynn pushed gently down on the plate. It seemed secure. She pushed a little harder. Still no movement. Another trap, not set.

Daelynn cautiously stepped inside the room. There was no blood on or near the door. If the blood pool marked where Gregory had died then it was not the traps that had killed him. That made sense. If he were tasked with recovering an item from the Reliquary, then priest would have known how to disarm the traps.

Looking around the room, the elf saw that wooden shelves held a variety of items, many of which had Tymoran symbols on them, mostly the flour-leafed clover. All seem to have been moved or shifted aside. The room looked disorderly. She noticed several sets of gold and silver dice on one section of a shelf, and a large intricate-looking carved, wooden fortune wheel standing in the far corner. The wheel stood upright and was divided into a dozen sections, each labeled in runic characters made from different, carved semi-precious gems. A red arrowhead, made of metal, was positioned atop the wheel.

She had seen items like this at carnivals. A spin of the wheel was supposed to tell your fortune. The runes used on the wheel were a bastardized version of dwarven runes used by human folk. Daelynn knew that a seer or priest would be needed to interpret any result. But such items were no longer used by Tymoran clergy. Dice and cards had also fallen out of favor, in recent decades. That was due to Mistress Alline's influence. Augury and fortune-telling were now left to Savras and other gods. 'Lady Luck' asked for a follower's trust, with no peeks into the future.

She walked over to the wheel, reached out a hand, and spun it. Unlike the clunky fortune wheels at fairs, this item was beautifully crafted, and spun easily and smoothly. Alternating dark and light inlaid woods spun before her eyes. The wheel clicked as each section rapidly spun past the red marker. The wheel slowed, then stopped - the arrow pointing to a rune which now softly glowed. That rune stood for something like 'misfortune' or 'danger'. Not a good omen, thought Daelynn. A breath later, a soft clacking sound, like dry sticks tapping on stone, caught her ear.

The elf whirled around, crouching low and drawing her sword from the scabbard across her back. She thrust it forward into the face of the fanged creature that was reaching for her. The many faceted eyes of the dog-sized spider reflected the room's flickering torchlight. The spider convulsed, its eight limbs going limp, and its body falling to the stone floor. Daelynn saw another large spider retreat through the doorway. Now alert, she listened to it scuttle down the corridor.

'Foolish girl', she chided herself. To be so easily distracted by shiny things! Sir Roland would have been merciless with his criticism.

The elf pulled her sword out of the large spider, wiped the ichor off on its carcass, and cautiously entered the hallway.

The spider's companion had exited to the right - Daelynn followed. Once away from the Reliquary torches, she relied on her darkvision and not her light disc. The corridor curved to the right. In her darkvision, the walls, floor and ceiling appeared a uniform dull gray. She occasionally caught a glimpse of a white, large, many-legged creature, ahead of her, but her view of that spider was usually blocked by the corridor's curved walls. Other than a scuttling coming from ahead, there was no other sound to be heard. The air was cool and damp against her skin. It smelled of moist earth.

The narrow corridor she was traversing opened onto an oval-shaped room about ten yards wide and twenty yards long. A darker gray, rectangular patch at the far end would be a doorway. In the middle of the room lay what looked like a body. Three spiders sat on or near it. There was nothing else in the room.

By crossing the threshold into the oval room, Daelynn alarmed the spiders. They stood, made a clattering sound with their mandibles, and drummed their rear legs against the floor. Daelynn stopped, then moved back a few paces to the narrow hallway. If the spiders attacked, they could only approach her one at a time. Two of the creatures, each the size of a large hound, settled down, but continued to click their mandibles together. The third moved towards her.

While Daelynn's focus was on the monster before her, she was not oblivious to what was happening around her. Her lapse in concentration in the Reliquary was not going to be repeated! Her keen elven hearing detected the spider's distinctive scuttling sound behind her. A quick glance rearward showed two more spiders approaching. The narrow hallway she was in was now a trap!


	4. 4 - A Light In The Darkness

**Chapter 4 – A Light In The Darkness**

With drawn sword, Daelynn waited. The spiders behind her were advancing rapidly; the one in front of her had almost reached the doorway… Now! She ran forward, launching herself into the air, diving over the monster. She bent forward, tucked her body and hit the floor with her shoulders. Somersaulting, she jumped to her feet, dropped her sword and pulled out her four throwing stars from her belt. Turning, she flung them at the beast nearest the doorway, which had turned and was scuttling back, towards her. The two spiders in the hallway were just entering the room.

As the spider went down with four, razor sharp blades in it, the elf gathered her will, focussing on the two spiders now entering the room. It was a simple orison, taught to all beginning students at the College of Heralds. It was one of the few classes in magic that she had attended. _Light_ flared in the faces of the advancing arachnids, blinding them.

Daelynn quickly scooped up her sword and turned to see what the creatures standing over the body were now doing. One still sat on it; the other was dashing across the floor towards her!

She pointed the silver sword she had taken from a Blackfinger assassin several months ago. Weeks of study, and several gold pieces for a mage's time and knowledge, had revealed the powers of the assassin's blade. She released one of the two spells that could be cast from it. A globe a blackness surrounded the cleric's body and the terrible creature that sat astride it.

Daelynn barely had time to draw her dagger before the last spider was upon her. It reared up on two sets of legs, mandibles and a fanged mouth, reaching for her! Striking with both blades, Daelynn knocked the beast onto its back, and drove her short sword into the abdomen. She was gratified to see the four sets of legs spasm then stiffen, as the spider, now dead, curled up on itself. Her satisfaction was short-lived. Pain shot through her left calf as something pierced her boot and pant leg. She cried out, swinging her dagger and sword behind her, trying to hit what had bit her.

She turned to see one of the blinded spiders, now recovered, stretching forward for another bite! She slapped at it with her sword, and started to back up. Its companion, still blind, was running in a small circle. Looking to her right, the elf saw the last spider exiting the globe of darkness, and start moving towards her. Dizziness swept through her. The elf retreated, trying to get her back against a wall.

The two spiders stopped their advance twenty feet from Daelynn. They started tapping the stone floor with their front set of legs - a fast staccato. The elf took advantage of the delay to cut a strip of fabric from her cloak and bound her wounded leg. Reaching into her belt, she drew out a small, stoppered metal flask. She quickly drank the tonic, a general cure-all that should counteract the effects of the spider's venom. Stripping her cloak from her back, she wound it around her left forearm. It would act as a bracer, and thwart spider mandibles from tearing in to her arm, she hoped.

The spiders stopped their drumming and stood eerily still, as if waiting. The blinded spider was at the far end of the room, its head still lit by her initial spell. Daelynn had few spells left in her meagre repertoire. A little more light would help her, she thought. She placed her weapons on the ground beside her and again focussed her will. Making exaggerated motions with both hands, she wove a simple spell. Simple to those who had practiced. Her head ached by the time she had finished the incantation. Four, small weak orbs of light drifted away for her and across the room. So much for _Dancing Lights_. The elf swore that, given the chance, she would be more diligent in attending classes in the future.

Daelynn readied her blades. No sense in waiting. She would carry the battle to the spiders. A mere breath before she was going to leap towards her foes, she saw movement at the far doorway. Two more spiders, no four more, entered the room. Even more followed. With a sinking heart she saw at least a dozen new enemies scuttle into the room and spread across the floor and walls! A dozen sets of multiple faceted eyes focussed on her.

Gripping her weapons, Daelynn charged forward to meet the spider horde. The only sound in the room was the dry staccato scuttling of many dozens of spider legs. She was not going to die in silence! An elven war cry echoed off the walls.

As Daelynn brought her swords down on her closest foe, another sound reached her ears. A softly spoken word, a mere whisper. To her, it was a gentle caress. But to her foes, it was death. All the spiders, without exception, dropped to the ground. Their legs curled about themselves. Convulsing in the most horrible manner, they died.

Puzzled, Daelynn looked around, trying to determine what had happened. At the far side of the room, standing in the doorway, was a small, elderly woman in grey robes. Mistress Alline!

The Preceptress walked towards Daelynn, carefully picking her way around the still twitching bodies, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Daelynn smiled at the cleric. "Could you teach me that?"

Alline smiled back. "Only after many years of faithful service was that spell granted to me. I have been forced to use Tymora's holy word several times in the last few hours. There seems no end to these beasts."

"What does that hide," asked Alline, pointing to the dark globe that still sat in the middle of the room?

"A body. Brother Gregory's, I believe", replied Daelynn. Alline nodded, walked over to the globe, and with a wave of her hand cancelled the spell. She looked down at the young priest's body. Daelynn joined her, and knelt down beside the corpse.

"The mundane traps at the Reliquary did not kill him. I could not detect any magical traps," the elf said. She rolled Gregory's body over, and noted a small cut in his robes on his back.

"That is because the priest charged with caring for the Reliquary has a command word that holds in abeyance all magical traps. Gregory would have disarmed traps both arcane and otherwise, before entering the Reliquary", offered the Preceptress. "Perhaps the spiders got him?"

"No. He was attacked from behind. It was a long, thin blade, to the heart," concluded Daelynn.

"Murder? Why? Gregory had no enemies. He was well liked by all. Oh, Sister Iliss will be devastated."

"Nothing was missing from the Reliquary", asked Daelynn?

"No. After I sent for Master Kelln, I heard a noise. I started to search the lower halls and Scriptorium. Ran in to spiders. Everywhere. I have been clearing out these levels when I came across you and your friends."

"Hmm. I guess the spiders must have carried Gregory's body off... Wait. Mistress. You said nothing was missing from the Reliquary, but between the time you were there and I arrived, Gregory's body was moved. The spiders could have been taken other things, too. And there was one treasure that I had expected to see, but did not. That damned Trysech that Sir Roland and I collected last year. But I supposed a relic like that would be safer in your strongbox?"

"You mean the locked, steel box, hidden beneath the floor, under my desk, in my private study, that no one knows about", asked Alline tartly?

"Umm. We can speak on that later," Daelynn hurriedly replied. "Was the Trysech in the Reliquary?"

"It was", replied Alline. "A moment."

Alline paused, clasped her holy symbol and cast _Locate Object_. In her mind's eye she saw a glowing path leading through the doorway on the right, and going downward, further underground. The Reliquary was to the left.

"Tymora's tits", she swore, startling the elf. "It has been taken."

Daelynn nodded. "You have taught me that Besha… that Tymora's sister's sphere of influence includes the Underdark. These spiders are denizens of that realm. They must have tunnelled up from below."

Alline gave the young elf a puzzled look. "Yes. How do you know these creatures are of the Underdark, child?"

Daelynn returned Alline's gaze. "Mistress. You call me 'child', and while I am young for an elf, I am older than you. I have learned a few things in near a century of life!"

Alline accepted this answer, nodded and pointed to the doorway to her right.

"Go through there. Follow a winding stairwell, downwards. It leads to the Crypt. It is at the lowest level of Tymora's temple complex. We must catch the creature carrying the relic before it gets away! I have a faster means of travel, and will meet you there!"

Daelynn stood and turned to follow her Mistress's command when she felt a tug on her ankle. One of the spiders was not dead? She looked down to see Brother Gregory's hand grasping her leg. She gasped as his pale face and sightless, dark eyes looked up at her. She screamed, and jumped back, drawing her sword. What was once Brother Gregory stood up and lurched toward her, claw-like hands grabbing at her.

The shock of seeing one of her own clerics rise as Undead, caused Alline to hesitate. Shaking her head, tears flooding her eyes, Alline clutched her holy symbol and thrust her other hand forward, turning Tymora's power of love and life against her former priest. Without a sound, Gregory's body turned to dust.

"How? What?" Daelynn was at a loss for words, not understanding what had just happened.

"It must have been the manner in which he was killed," said Alline. She touched Daelynn's shoulder, reciting an orison of calming. "Are you alright, Daelynn?"

The elf took a deep breath and nodded. Alline took a ring from a finger and passed it to the elf. "Wear this. It will offer some protection."

Alline once again touched her holy symbol, and in the blink of an eye, disappeared. Daelynn took another calming breath, donned the ring, and sword in hand, marched over to a spider body. She cut out her throwing stars, cleaned them as best she could, and returned them to her belt. Crossing the room, she entered the doorway that led to the crypt.


	5. 5 - Crypts and Critters

**Chapter 5 – Crypts and Critters**

Daelynn's _Dancing Lights_ followed her, illuminating a large room that was a scene of carnage. Some two dozen spider bodies were strewn about, many in pieces. Blood was splattered across the walls and floor. No spoken work of power had killed these beasts. Judging by the type of damage and the number of bodies sliced in two, a rather large, long sword had been used. A pile of charred spider bodies lay in the far corner. Smoke and a horrible stench hung in the air.

Someone, or something, had slain over twenty-and-four large spiders using both steel and magic, and had done so in the pitch dark.

She had seen something like this, years ago. Only then the bodies had been human. The old scar on the inside of her left forearm throbbed at that memory. She shook her head, banishing the horrors of yesteryear to inspect today's terror.

A single set of bootprints had tracked through the room's bloody remains and exited down a narrow staircase.

Daelynn sent her floating lights down the stairwell ahead of her. Cold, moist air chilled her skin. She shivered, pushed back a lock of stray black hair, and drew her dagger, feeling slightly braver with two good blades in her hands. The echo of voices came from below. Daelynn hurried, not doubting for a moment that Mistress Alline was in great danger. 

* * *

Alline had hoped to get ahead of whatever creature was attempting to carry off the Trysech. Something or someone had set the spiders loose in the temple, and in the confusion was attempting to run off with the relic. It must not be allowed to fall into Beshaban hands! Poor Brother Gregory had arrived at the Reliquary at the wrong time. Slain in defense of his goddess's treasures. There would be a reckoning for that, the priestess vowed!

Alline's spell allowed her to travel quickly across the Ethereal Plane, arriving at a place that corresponded with her temple's Crypt, in a mere moment. She had sent Daelynn along a more mundane, safer and slower path. The Preceptress hoped that all would be resolved in her favor before her Divine Seeker arrived. Daelynn's talents were stealth, not battle.

Alline left the Ethereal Plane and appeared in a small sacristy at one end of the Crypt. The Crypt was large, taking up almost as much room as the temple nave itself. Two-score slender pillars supported a high, vaulted ceiling. In between the pillars, laid out in solemn rows, were carved limestone sarcaphogi, each holding the mortal remains of past Preceptors and Preceptrices, as well as senior priests favoured by Tymora. A small alcove to the west held the bodies of Divine Seekers. The work of a Divine Seeker was dangerous, and often times their remains could not be recovered. Small brass plaques remembered those who had fallen in service to the Smiling Lady.

Permanent light spells were placed strategically about the cavernous room, creating a patches of light and shadow that enhanced the solemn and holy nature of the space. In the middle of the room, in an open area, was a pile of spider bodies. Standing amid them, a tall, thin black form held up a bright object. It caught the light, reflecting blue and gold – the Trysech. That ancient treasure, one of Tymora's most sacred relics, had Power that her sister goddess, Beshaba, the Maid of Misfortune, had long sought. And it was now in the hands of a dark and terrible creature!

Mistress Alline moved forward, casting several spells upon herself, as she cautiously approached the Crypt's center space.

* * *

The warrior absently tucked a stray lock of snow-white hair back under her headband, as she bent down to examine the glittering gold and cerulean disc that a spider had been carrying.

The spiders had fought hard, but had been no match for her sword. This was the third group that she had slain in the last hour. The slaughter of minions was beneath her, but she was not about to question her goddess's commands. Something had directed the simple, near mindless spiders to raid this temple for a sacred artefact. This relic was rumored to be able to alter Luck. Little wonder that forces in the Underdark wanted it!

The slayer of spiders picked up the disc. It was beautifully crafted. Eilistraee would be pleased. But, before taking her prize home, the spider's master would have to be eluded, or defeated. She assumed that it was not too far away.

Ah. Movement to her left. The cleric. Damn. Time to go. 

* * *

Holding her holy symbol, Alline stepped forward and began to recite a Curse.

The being holding the Trysech, raised a long, wicked looking, black bastard sword, and pointed it at Alline.

"I would not do that, priestess", the stranger intoned, in a strangely accented Common. "I'd be forced to…retaliate. And that would not be good for your old bones."

The creature in the center of the Crypt stood up to its full height, and turned to face the cleric. Alline felt a momentary thrill of fear course through her as she looked up and locked eyes with a tall, armored, ebon-skinned, white-haired, female drow.

Long in limb, clothed in black brigadine and breastplate, the drow stood over six foot in height. Its long, white hair was held in place by a silver band. A silver-hued cape hung from slender shoulders. There was no breeze in the Crypt, but the cape fluttered behind her. Bright eyes of a deep amber stared, unblinking, at the Preceptress.

"Return the Trysech, and you may go in peace", said Alline. She hoped she sounded braver than she felt. What in all the heavens was a drow doing in her temple?

"Or? There is always an "or" from you humans. At least from the few bold enough to challenge a drow!" The warrior responded.

Alline straightened her back, trying to look a little taller than the almost five feet the gods had granted her. "Or, you shall be laid low by Tymora's most Holy Power!"

To emphasize her threat, Alline effortlessly augmented her armoring spells so that others could see the enchantments upon her. It was no frail, old woman who stood before a member of the Underdark's most feared race, but a holy warrior. A shield emblazoned with Tymora's four-leaf clover appeared on her left arm. Her grey robes shimmered and rippled, and took on the look of fine chainmail. The simple gold circlet upon her brow morphed to an open-faced bascinet. In her right hand she now held a slim, but deadly looking war hammer.

"Ah! Perhaps you are a foe worthy of my mettle? I tire of spiders. I accept your challenge. The winner shall keep this little trinket, the loser will feed the spiders' master!"

In response, Alline loosed a spell of _Holding_ upon the drow. The warrior shook her head. A brief shudder ran through her frame. Shaking off the effects of the cleric's spell, the drow smiled a smile that Alline hoped never to see again. The drow was striking looking, even beautiful. But that smile terrified Alline.

"I am protected from lesser enchantments, Priestess. I do not doubt that some powerful spell, granted to you by your goddess, might destroy me. But what damage would it do to this place? Would you quake the earth? Drop a stone from the heavens upon me", asked the drow? "Are you willing to destroy this temple, and the very bauble you are trying to protect?"

Alline sighed in frustration. She had few spells left in her inventory. It had been a long and busy day at Tymora's temple. She had cast many lesser healing spells and blessings for Tymoran worshippers, created food for the alms basket, communed with her goddess, and spent the last few hours slaying crawling horrors. Now, late at night, protected by several strong enchantments and fortified by still more spells, she had all but exhausted her repertoire. As a last resort she had one deadly spell left that could level this cavern, destroying herself, the drow and the Trysech. She would make certain that the relic would never leave this room. But first, she had to trust to Lady Luck.

Without a word, Mistress Alline charged the drow, her spirit and body ablaze with Tymora's power. The drow dropped the relic, and with her black bastard sword held in both hands, called upon her own dark goddess for aid. She sprang forward to meet the brave but foolish human female. 

* * *

The voices Daelynn could hear were now raised in anger. Who or what was Alline facing? If Daelynn's suspicions were correct, then Alline was in deadly peril. The priestess had looked exhausted to Daelynn. Even with Tymora's blessings strengthening her, Alline was too old to be running about catacombs chasing after spiders and relics. Wasn't that Daelynn's job?_ Udὺn_! How long was this staircase, Daelynn fretted?

The stairs took a final twist, opening up onto a ramp that descended into the Crypt. There, in the center. Two shadowy forms facing each other. A pillar partly blocked her view. Daelynn quickly and silently ran down the ramp and between tall, stone tombs, desperate to reach Alline.

The elf rounded a pillar just in time to see the priestess, dressed in gorgeous, shimmering armor, deflect a sword blow with what appeared to be a crystalline shield. Where had that come from? The cleric's war hammer swept in a wide arc in an attempt to smite her foe, only to be turned aside by the expertly wielded black sword. Alline's opponent was… oh, Goddess! No! 

* * *

Cleric and drow exchanged furious blows.

Alline fell to one knee. The strength in her foe's arm was incredible!

Calling to Tymora to replenish her fast fading strength, the aged priestess gambled all in a last desperate lunge, taking her inside the arc of the drow's wicked blade. If she could touch the drow, release one last Curse, she might yet prevail!

* * *

Daelynn recognized that the opening Alline saw as an opportunity to close with her foe, was instead, a 'lure', a decoy to entice an unwary opponent. She had seen the move before, had trained against it. She knew that the drow would use a half-sword grip, shortening her black blade, and thrusting the point into the cleric's face or throat.

Leaping from the shadows cast by two sarcophagi, Daelynn entered the fray. She pushed her dagger hand hard against Alline, forcing her back, while her own sword swept up, deflecting the drow's thrust.

Alline stepped back, surprised, and fearful for her Divine Seeker.

"Run, child! You cannot stand against her!"

At almost the same instant, the drow warrior changed grips and struck at Daelynn with the flat of her sword, shouting in her native tongue.

"Stand down, young one. Or, learn a painful lesson!"

Daelynn defected the drow warrior's blade, and her next thrust, and a riposte. Her silver sword striking sparks off the drow's jet-black blade.

"_Stop_!" The elf maid yelled in the low drow dialect, stepping back to allow for disengagement.

The drow warrior hesitated, then stepped back a half pace, sword held at mid-guard. "_Asanque_*", she responded.

"Alline", Daelynn addressed her mentor, in her excitement forgetting to add an honorific. "This _malla_* warrior may take offense easily, and be too ready to join in battle, but she is not your enemy. It was she who, in the room above us and here in the Crypt, has slain many of the Underdark spiders."

"She was holding the Trysech!" Alline warned.

"I… liberated the ornament from one of the spiders", stated the drow. "Forces in the Underdark, your Beshaba and her allies in the Dark Seldarine, want to use it. That cannot be allowed. It is obvious you cannot protect it. I should take it."

"Of all the arrogance,'' stated Alline. "No one -."

"Perhaps the two of you can argue later", suggested Daelynn? She pointed to her short sword, which was now glowing with a harsh blue-white light. "We have company. A demon approaches."

The sound of stones clattering to the ground caused the three women to turn and look to the far end of the Crypt. Entering from a hole in the wall, a massive, multi-legged horror strode into the Crypt. Its body was the size of a large horse; its many legs stretched twelve to fifteen feet. The two long forelegs ended in sharp barbs. Unlike the smaller, soft-bodied spiders, this monstrosity had hard, blue-grey chitinous plates covering it. A half-dozen sets of baleful eyes glared at the trio.

"That, is a really big spider", observed Daelynn.

"A 'Barbed Horror'! One of Beshaba's beasts! The Bad Sister has a fondness for those things", warned Alline. "It is poisonous."

"It's called a _bebilith_", said the drow. "It is the spiders' master, and a servitor to Lolth. The spider-bitch and Tymora's sister have a common desire."

With her sword, the drow pointed to the golden relic lying on the floor. The bebilith followed the sword's motion. When the demon's eyes lit on the relic, it raised itself high on its two sets of rear legs, pointed its barbed forelegs at the drow, and charged.

*** Drow terms**

**_Asanque_ (as you wish)**

**_Malla_ (honored, or honored one)**


	6. 6 - The Barbed Horror

**Chapter 6 – The Barbed Horror**

With no hesitation, the drow warrior lifted her sword and moved forward to meet the many-legged horror. She tossed a warning, and a final insult, at the two Tymorans.

"Run! This is no place for children or the elderly!"

Alline spat out an expletive, one that made Daelynn blush.

"Take the relic", the Preceptress directed Daelynn. "Get to Master Kelln! He will send aid!"

Without a glance back to see if her commands were being met, Alline ran after the drow. She'd be damned by Tymora if she let a murdering, treacherous, Underdark worshiper of evil, battle one of Beshaba's favorites. This was her temple to protect!

Daelynn glared at the two women's backs as they rushed the Barbed Horror. She stomped a foot in frustration. Adults! How dare they dismiss her like that! She retrieved the Trysech, securing it inside her shirt as she stepped into the shadows.

* * *

**The giant, spider–like demon focussed four sets of its eyes on the sword-wielding drow, while the other two sets scanned the surrounding area for additional dangers. A smaller two-leg was approaching from the left. A course of action was quickly calculated. _Incapacitate the larger foe. Kill the smaller one. Retrieve the object. Destroy the larger foe. Retreat._**

**At twenty yards distance from the drow, the _bebilith_ suddenly stopped its charge, raised itself high, tucking its abdomen under its cephalothorax, and released a spray of webbing from one of its spinnerets. The demon quickly shifted direction and resumed its charge, but this time towards the smaller of its enemies.**

* * *

The webbing expanded until it was a sticky net, five yards wide, spinning towards the drow warrior. She tried to dodge the missile, but failed. The webbing slapped against her, throwing her back against the rough stone side of an ancient tomb. Her sword arm and right side of her body were stuck fast! She could feel heat from the webbing through her clothing and armor. A few strands of webbing that crossed her arm and face, burned her skin. She watched in consternation as the demon changed course, and charged the cleric.

The Preceptress saw the drow warrior immobilized by the Barbed Horror. Was that to be her fate, too? So be it. She had to slow the beast so that Kelln and her priests had time to get to them and kill it.

Alline's exalted rank in the Tymoran church's hierarchy had been hard–earned. In her decades of study she had learned not only about Tymora, but also about her goddess's sister and nemesis, Beshaba. She knew Beshaba's foibles, as well as the strengths and weaknesses of her allies. If a _bebilith_ was in danger of being killed or captured, she knew it would shift to another plane of existence. That route of retreat had to be stopped.

A glowing, green ray sprang from the priestess's outstretched hand and arced towards the demon.

Seeing this, the _bebilith_ tried to stop its mad rush toward the cleric. It back-pedalled and skittered on the stone flooring, trying desperately to avoid the growing green nimbus, but to no avail. It was immediately covered in a shimmering emerald field. Skidding on the floor, the _bebilith_ crashed into several smaller tombs, upsetting them. A flailing leg struck Alline, sending her spinning into the shadows.

The priestess slid along the floor, coming to an abrupt, bone-jarring crash against a sarcophagus. She was saved from anything more severe than a few new bruises thanks to having cast _Bear's Endurance_ before confronting the drow. Thank Tymora for protection spells and divine armor!

Her casting of _Dimensional Anchor_, which stopped the demon's extra-planar movement, now meant that she no longer had enough power to destroy the Crypt. But with the Trysech safely on its way to Master Kelln, she would use what little divine energies she had left to defeat or stall Beshaba's pet. Wincing, she picked herself up, and turned to face the demon.

* * *

**The _bebilith_ tried to jump to another plane. Nothing! She could not reach anywhere else. She was trapped on the _Prime Plane_. Having her escape routes cut-off made her nervous. And angry. Staggering up on to six of her legs, she looked about for the cunning cleric. Her barbed front legs ready to pierce armor and flesh, and rip them apart.**

**Spying her prey, she reared up on her rear two sets of legs and was about to attack, when a fireball exploded in the middle of her back. A searing heat washed over her. Staggering, she whirled around to see the drow warrior, hand raised, pointing at her! The demon's natural armor had protected her from the worst of the blast, and fire did less damage to her than to most creatures. But it still hurt!**

**_ So be it. The smaller two-leg could wait. First, death to the drow!_**

* * *

The drow warrior relaxed her arm. It had been a good cast; well placed. Ah, now she had the demon's attention! One handed, she quickly cast _Dissolve_ on the webbing holding her tight against the stone tomb. At the speed at which the demon was approaching her, she had no time to cast another spell. She brushed aside the remnants of the webbing and readied her sword.

Alline limped out of the shadows in time to see the _bebilith_ assault the drow. The demon spider was striking repeatedly at her with both wickedly barbed front legs. After every third of fourth blow, it lashed out with another leg, or lunged forward in an attempt to bite the drow. The drow's sword was a blur, weaving a net of steel about herself, deflecting blow after blow.

As excellent a defense as the drow possessed, defense alone would not win the battle. Could the drow hold the beast until help arrived, wondered Alline? Goddess, how she ached! At her age he should be dangling grandchildren on her knee, not fighting demons. And aiding a drow? Unbelievable. She hobbled towards the battling duo.

* * *

One of the requirements of a Tymoran Divine Seeker, was to master the ability of striking at an enemy from concealment. Daelynn's ex-master, Roland, had taught her how to make use of cover and distraction, moving silently and unseen; how to position oneself near an unsuspecting foe so that a surprise attack would inflict as much damage as possible.

It was not easy, slinking through the Crypt, moving undetected, avoiding a many-eyed demon, while someone you cared about faced mortal danger. But rushing into battle was not the way of a Divine Seeker. "A smidgen of restraint saves you a dollop of wallops". She smiled, hearing Roland's lilting voice in her head. She moved closer to the fighting, searching for an appropriate place from which to attack.

* * *

**The demon spider's main focus was the drow, but her secondary eyes noticed the cleric staggering towards her. '_Lolth!_' - She used the spider bitch's name as a curse. The old one was tough! Lifting her abdomen slightly, she shifted her attack on the drow, allowing herself to be turned to the right. There! The _bebilith_ released a jet of webbing from another spinneret, directly at the cleric.**

* * *

Alline raised her shield a mere breath before the whirling webs struck. The heat given off by the webbing scorched her. She threw the divinely created shield aside, and watched it fade away to nothingness. It had absorbed a significant portion of the damage meted out to her by both the drow and the demon. She hoped her armor would last a little longer.

With a limited amount of divine energy left to her, the Preceptress now opted for attack, instead of defense. She renewed her spell, _Spiritual Weapon_, and released the war hammer. It flew straight and true, smashing into the demon's left side.

But the _bebilith's_ blue-grey chiton was as tough as armor. The hammer did little damage, but it did distract the beast, causing its strike against the drow to miss.

Alline refocussed her mind, pulled her arm back, and then vigorously thrust it forward. The holy weapon, floating gently in the air, retreated some ten feet from the spider, then surged forward, striking the demon again, and again, and again, chipping away at the giant spider's exoskeleton.

* * *

**The annoying hammering on her side had caused the demon's attack on the drow to falter. It was starting to hurt back there, and it was getting harder to concentrate. But the elf was tiring. A slight misstep was all that was needed. …. There! The chance for which the demon had been waiting! She blocked the drow's dark blade with one leg, receiving a painful cut. But in so doing, took advantage of the opening - her right front barbed leg struck the drow forcefully, tearing into the breastplate and the flesh beneath, pinning her against a carved pillar.**

**The demon focussed more of her eyes on the cleric, and loosed another web. Her prey was close by and shieldless. The webbing easily entangled the hammer wielder, causing her to drop to the ground. She had them now!**

* * *

Alline struggled against the threads that held her to the ground. By craning her neck to one side, she could see the demon spider holding the drow against a large stone column. The demon was raising its other barbed leg high in the air. The priestess knew what would happen next. A second thrust into the drow, then the barbed legs would rip the elf asunder. Alline struggled to free one hand. If she could just take control of her hammer for a moment!

The drow was shouting something at the spider. Defiant to the end? From her position on the Crypt's stone floor, it appeared to Alline that the drow was looking above the spider. She glanced upward, and saw what the drow had seen.

Surrounding the combatants were the elegantly carved sarcophagi of past Tymoran leaders. Most were tastefully decorated. A few were grandiose. One of the larger and more garish tombs featured a tall, winged figure, perhaps the representation of an angel, standing guard over the deceased. The head of the large statue was almost twenty feet above the ground and almost ten feet above the back of the spider demon; the beautifully carved wings rose several feet above that. The statue's wings cast a shadow across its head and shoulders. Alline saw movement in those shadows – someone was up there!

* * *

Daelynn launched herself off the statue, onto the demon below. He silver sword, held by both hands, drove into the beast's back just behind its head. In agony, the demon reared, yanking its barbed leg out of the drow's shoulder, and threw her newest foe off her back and onto the cold, hard, stone flooring.

The demon spider wobbled on its feet trying to focus its eyes. Where was that drow?

Alline strained against the webbing that held her to the floor. All she needed was one hand freed! Something moved beside her!

"Do not move", commanded Daelynn. "Let my blade do its work."

With one pass of her keen knife, the elf cut Alline's arm free.

"Enough!" Ordered the cleric.

Focussing her will, Alline regained control of her war hammer, which floated several feet away. She sent it spinning towards the demon. The hammer crashed into a front leg, causing the spider to stumble towards the drow.

Blocking the searing pain in her shoulder as best she could, the drow warrior swung her sword in a clumsy overhand strike. It may have been more luck than skill, but her black blade found its target, cleaving the demon's skull.

The spider demon's body swayed, then sagged, and slowly fell to the ground.

Daelynn cut the remaining webs away from Alline and helped the Preceptress to her feet. She then walked over to the drow and tended to her wounded shoulder, using the remains of her cloak to staunch the flow of blood.

Dimly, the sound of a bell could be heard echoing in the Crypt.

"Midnight passes", Alline informed the two elves. "It is a new day, and with Luck, I shall be granted Tymora's favor. A moment, please?"

Mistress Alline closed her eyes, clasped her holy symbol in both hands, and bowed her head. Several breaths later, she looked up and smiled at the drow warrior and her Divine Seeker.

"My Goddess has granted me a few spells. I'd need sleep and a longer period of prayer for anything more. But it will be enough."

Still holding her holy symbol, the priestess made a small motion with her right hand. Her body seemed to relax - the bruises and cuts on her face and hands faded. In an instant, she looked rested, refreshed and years younger.

Addressing the drow, Alline asked. "With your permission?"

Nodding, the drow held herself still. Alline touched her shoulder, casting a _Cure Wounds_ spell. In the space of a few breaths, the drow stood tall and appeared unharmed.

The three women stood in awkward silence beside the body of the demon. It was Daelynn who broke the silence.

"Perhaps, introductions are in order?"

"_Malla_*", Daelynn addressed the drow in Low Drow, but continued in Common, gesturing towards Alline. "I present Mistress Alline Allendyle, Matriarch of the Tymoran House, and Preceptress of the Eastern Tymoran Church. Alline is my employer, mentor, and friend."

The young elf turned to the Preceptress, and indicated the drow. "Mistress, I present the goddess Eilistraee's Darksong Knight and Servant to Lady Silverhair, Sacred Dancer to the Dark Maiden, and Slayer of Those Who Profane Eilistraee's Holy Places."

Daelynn hesitated a moment before adding, "And, my mother."

"Employer?"

"Mother?" 

*** Drow terms**

_Malla_ (honored, or honored one)


	7. Truths Revealed

**Chapter 7 – Truths Revealed**

This time, it was Mistress Alline who broke the uneasy quiet.

"Daelynn. Find Master Kelln and tell him what has transpired here. I would omit any reference to your mother. Then, join us in my study. I will take the Trysech."

Taking the relic from her Divine Seeker, Alline turned to the Darksong Knight. "We have much to discuss. With your permission?"

She held out a hand.

The drow took the offered hand in hers, a puzzled look on her dark face. They made a strange sight, a tall dark drow and the petite human cleric, standing side by side. Alline clasped her holy symbol and invoked a spell that had been permanently placed upon it. She had never used _Word of Recall_ from inside the temple before, but it seemed a more discreet method of travel compared to traipsing through the complex with a drow warrior in tow.

In the space of one long, slow breath, Alline and her guest faded from Daelynn's sight.

Daelynn walked through the lower temple hallways, anxious to reach Kelln and deliver her message. She had to get to Mistress Alline's study, quickly. Having her mother and her mentor in the same room was a terrible idea. What if they started fighting, again? Or worse - what if they started talking, about her? Daelynn's pace quickened.

* * *

Retracing her steps, Daelynn exited the temples lower levels by the same stairwell she had use to enter them. Quickly, quietly, and unseen, she again slipped by the young acolyte guarding the entranceway. She found Kelln and several other priests in the large common room that served as informal meeting place, kitchen and mess hall. He was issuing stern orders to two senior priestesses. Goddess, how the man liked to direct people! She waited a moment until he had finished speaking and the two priestesses had departed.

"Master Kelln."

The prelate jumped at Daelynn's sudden appearance by his side.

"You? I thought I told you…"

Whatever Kelln was going to say died in his throat as Daelynn raised her left hand, her middle finger, which sported Alline's signet ring, extended.

Kelln recognized the ring, Mistress Alline's twin initials entwined on the bezel. The man could be overbearing, and a bit pompous, but he was no fool. He understood that Daelynn, the elf he had earlier dismissed, now spoke with the Preceptress' authority.

"The Preceptress is safe", Daelynn informed the man. "She has retired to her study and wishes to be left undisturbed. The lower levels were infested by large spiders. Some may still be alive. Take care when going below. Mistress Alline asks that you repair the Crypt's south wall. Oh, an item has been removed from the Reliquary. It is safe with the Preceptress. It was that item that they creatures were after. Brother Gregory… He is gone. I am sorry."

Daelynn's genuine concern about one of his novices seemed to soften the man's attitude towards her.

"Thank you, Lady Daelynn. He was a good lad. If only he could have activated the traps in the Reliquary. If tripped, an alarum would have sounded. Someone may have got to him, and saved him from the creatures."

Kelln waved over a senior priest. "Brother. Please find Sister Morrsi. She will have to return to her duties as Reliquarian until a replacement for Brother Gregory can be found."

Daelynn decided not to disabuse Kelln of his notion that Gregory had been killed by spiders. If that were the story spread about the temple, then his murderer might decide they were safe. Perhaps, they'd even try to go after the Trysech again?

"Master Kelln. If another attack were made against the Reliquary, could this Sister Morrsi defend against it any better than Gregory", inquired Daelynn?

"No. Reliquary duties are given to novices", answered the priest. "It allows them to learn about temple functions, and take on increased responsibilities. Each takes a turn for a period of one month. Sister Morrsi had this duty last month, so she knows what needs to be done. But this time, she will be accompanied by two senior acolytes."

Daelynn turned to go, paused, then swung back to face the Master of Novices.

"Then each novice who has this task knows the commands and switches to annul the traps? One each month", Daelynn asked? "Then anyone who had served as Reliquarian could enter that room. At any time."

"No", stated the priest, somewhat condescendingly. "The command words are changed each month, and are known only to Mistress Alline, myself, and that month's novice responsible for caring for the relics."

"Ah. Thank you." Daelynn excused herself, and again turned to go. She paused, spun back to face the priest, and was about to ask another question, when the man raised his hand, forestalling her.

"Sharing of such command words is a direct abrogation of one's duties as Reliquarian. It is cause for reprimand, possibly even dismissal." The priest looked positively smug. "That was going to be your next question, was it not?"

Daelynn offered an insincere smile, turned away, and left the common room. Passing through the back hallways of the temple, she turned to ascend a stairway that led to the upper levels and Alline's rooms, when she caught sight of Brother Quintin sitting forlornly on a stool in a small storage room. The young man looked as if he had lost his best friend. _Ud__ù__n_! Had the poor fellow been a comrade of Gregory's?

"Quintin?" She called from the doorway. "Are you unwell?"

The youth looked up, relieved that it was not Master Kelln or a senior priest or priestess who addressed him. Before he could say anything, the elf spoke.

"Do you mourn for Brother Gregory?"

"What? Why? Er, no. I am glad he's dead!"

Daelynn's' eye brows climbed high up her forehead. She had been under the impression that Gregory had been well-liked by everyone.

Quintin stammered, then continued speaking. "No, no. Not dead. That was a horrible thing to say. But he treated my cousin poorly. I do not grieve. But you must believe me when I say she did not harm him. She would not have!"

"Quintin. You are babbling. Take a deep breath. Again. Relax, if you can. Now, tell me. What are you talking about? Who could not have harmed Gregory?"

Quintin did as he had been instructed, taking several breaths. It seemed to calm him.

"I am sorry, Lady. My cousin is Sister Morrsi. She and Sister Iliss were friends. Well, maybe more than friends. They were quite close for a bit. But Gregory stole Iliss away. Morrsi was so hurt. She despised Gregory. But she would not have done this! Not murder!"

Quintin's voice was rising and he was getting agitated. Daelynn shushed him, then told him a bit of what had transpired beneath the temple, making it sound as if hound-sized spiders, and not a crossed lover's blade, had taken Gregory's life.

"Spiders? That is awful!" Despite his words, the look on Quintin's face suggested that Gregory's fate was, if anything, a fitting one for someone who had been party to breaking his cousin's heart.

Daelynn left a much a relieved Quintin and continued on her way to Alline's study. The door was shut. She knocked – two fast, one slow.

* * *

"Enter", answered Alline, from inside the study.

Daelynn entered the room, not at all expecting the sight that greeted her. Her mother was sitting, no lounging, on a settee, sipping a steaming drink from a fine cup. Alline sat curled up in a large chair that had been drawn up to the fireplace. Both women seemed relaxed, at ease. She detected the unmistakeable scent of _kava_ in the air. Her mother's favorite drink.

"More _kava_, Dancer?" The Preceptress asked of her guest.

"Thank you, yes, Alline", answered the Darksong Knight.

Oh, Goddess! They were using first names! Could this get any worse, wondered Daelynn?

Nodding to her mother, Daelynn faced Alline and summarized her conversation with Master Kelln. She also mentioned Quintin and his fear of a love affair gone wrong.

Alline sat in silence for the space of several long, slow breaths, looking at the elf. Daelynn's nervousness increased with each passing moment. Oh, say something, you old bat, the elf fumed to herself.

As if reading the gist of Daelynn's thoughts, Mistress Alline spoke.

"So, Daelynn. You are not a Moon Elf?"

'I never actually claimed to be a Moon Elf, Mistress. People see my skin color and make assumptions…" she trailed off at Alline's stern look.

"Lies of omission, are still lies, Daelynn", responded the cleric. "But I do understand how difficult acknowledging your true parentage cwould be. Life for a half-Drow would not be easy on the surface world."

"With respect Mistress, it is even more difficult in the Underdark. Mixed-blood drow are generally accorded a social rank only slightly higher than what you would call a peasant or freed-slave. Even among Eilistraee's followers, racial prejudices are often stronger than proclaimed religious beliefs of equality."

"My daughter speaks her truth", interjected Daelynn's mother. "Her skin would darken if she spent more time in the Underdark. But only to a beautiful deep blue. Still not the black of a full-blooded drow. Oh, there are lighter skinned Drow. But their coloring is considered a normal variation. It is not so much her skin color, as the reason for it that makes life difficult for her in the Underdark. Her father is human. It is a pairing not easily accepted by many drow."

""Is" a human", asked Alline? "But Daelynn is near a century old!"

Daelynn laughed at Alline's confusion.

"My father, while human, must have some elvish blood. Or, he is especially blessed by his 'Protector'. He has lived the span of near to three human lifetimes, and yet is still hale and hearty. Age seems not to touch him."

"Yet, he does age, Daelynn", cautioned her mother. "You have not seen him in some time. His beard greys, and his eyes are not as sharp as they once were. His hand, while still strong, is not as steady with a blade as it was."

Her mother rushed to assuage the concern on her daughter's face.

"He is fine, daughter. Just getting older. He still spars with the monks, and rides most days. And, he continues to satisfy me in our bed."

"_Ilhar!"*_

"Oh, Daelynn. Do not be such a prude!"

Alline politely coughed, pointing to the Trysech, which lay on her desk.

"I will Commune with Tymora. She may have advice on how better to protect the relic. Until then, it will stay in my strong box. Guards will be posted at the door. Traps set. But that aside, there are still questions to be answered. The Trysech was still it the Reliquary when Kelln, and then later I, arrived. Why was it not taken by Gregory's killer? And why was Brother Gregory murdered with a knife, and not killed by the spiders? Surely, the Demon of the Underdark, working for Beshaba, had control of them! Why not use them to kill Gregory?"

"Oh, I think that is a puzzle for your Divine Seeker", said Dancer, in her beautifully accented Common.

Daelynn's soft comment, in Low Drow, was only caught by drow ears, Alline being unaware of Daelynn having offered her mother the equivalent gesture to that of a human child sticking out its tongue at a parent.

"If you, Mistress, could answer a few questions? I may be able to offer an explanation for all that has occurred, and identify Gregory's killer", said Daelynn.

Alline motioned for her to continue.

"The sightings of a dark entity in the lower hallways beneath the Temple started a week, or so, ago. Those were the spiders, controlled by the _bebilith_, scouting. And perhaps, my mother was also glimpsed by a priest or two, as she followed the spiders?"

The drow nodded in agreement. "Not knowing what the Trysech looked like, I had to wait for the spiders to collect it. Scouting the catacombs helped pass the time, as I waited for the spiders to make their move."

Daelynn continued. "The _bebilith_ was too large to crawl thru the hallways leading to the Reliquary. And, there was nowhere for so large a beast to hide, waiting for the opportunity to ambush anyone visiting the Reliquary. It is true that the spiders can be directed by a greater mind, but they are not intelligent enough to know when to enter, or not enter, a room. Nor would they be able to recognize what item needed to be removed. The spiders were meant to receive the relic and carry it off to the Demon, who would take it to her mistress in the Underdark. But first, someone else had to remove the Trysech from the Reliquary."

"Mistress", Daelynn continued, addressing Alline. "Does the Reliquarian retrieve relics on a regular basis?"

"No, child. Only as needed, and as directed by myself, Master Kelln, or the Sacristor."

"Then the spider-demon could not know when a novice might be sent to the Reliquary! But, a Beshaban agent in the Temple could. If they knew who that month's Reliquarian was, they could watch them, follow them. Wait until they had disabled the traps, both magical and mundane, then kill the novice and steal any item they wanted."

Alline nodded in agreement. "And Kelln disturbed the killer-thief when he went looking for Brother Gregory. They hid, returning later to take the Trysech, passing it to its spider allies."

"But why not carry it away themselves", asked Daelynn?

"Ha", exclaimed Dancer! "Because the spider–demon can travel to other planes of existence. That ability, and their generally fearsome nature, means that they can safely and quickly travel through the Underdark, to wherever they were meant to deliver the relic!"

Alline chimed in.

"Also, the relic would not be as secure in the hands of their agent on the surface world. For as soon as we learned of the theft, we would set our Divine Seeker after them. Daelynn, you have stolen from, and desecrated, Beshaban shrines, previously retrieved both parts of the Trysech, killed two Blackfinger assassins, and thwarted Beshaba's cleric, Braxes, numerous times. They respect, and may even fear, your skills."

The look on Daelynn's mother's face could only have been described as pride. It was a shame the young elf did not notice it.

"Mistress, I know you do not hold with gossip, but I need to know when Gregory started to pursue Sister Iliss. She had previously been close to Sister Morrsi? I heard that he stole her away?"

"You are mistaken, Daelynn. It was Sister Iliss who pursued Gregory, leaving Sister Morrsi heartbroken. We no longer require our novices to follow chastity vows. But I swear, at times I am tempted to re-instate them!"

"And this transfer of affection? It occurred when Gregory replaced Morrsi as the novice responsible for caring for the relics", asked the elf maid?

"I believe so", answered the cleric.

"If you would excuse me? I must speak with Master Kelln", said the elf.

Mistress Alline nodded, indicating that Daelynn was free to leave. The young elf turned to face her mother, but before she could wish her well and a safe journey, the drow spoke.

"I will meet you later, daughter. At your house. I am staying awhile."

Oh, damn! It had gotten worse!

* Drow terms

_ilhar_ (mother)


	8. 8 - The Bad Little Sister

**Chapter 8 – The Bad Little Sister**

Three small lanterns hung about the run-down room provided sufficient light for "Sister" Iliss to admire her reflection in the long mirror. Gone were the dull grey robes sported by Tymoran clergy, replaced by a fine red, form-fitting gown. She smoothed away a few wrinkles, admiring her flawless figure. Turning to the small table beside her, she selected two small ceramic pots. Using small brushes, she applied colour to her cheeks, lips and eyes. Auburn hair, green eyes, fine nose. There - as lovely as Sune.

She smiled a cheery, friendly smile at her reflection, the smile she used to make friends, to appear innocent. She laughed at her image. '_Lady Doom_', she swore! She was tired of that look! Iliss drew herself up, appearing notably taller, and offered the mirror a different look, a truer face. Impertinence and a dark mischief played across her lips. Eyes smoldered. That was better.

Iliss opened a small drawer in the table, and pulled out the Tymoran holy symbol that she'd been forced to wear for the last two months. She spat on the four-leaf clover, dipped the pendant into one of the make-up jars, and threw the thing into a corner of the shabby room. From a second drawer she pulled out a fine silver chain from which hung a small piece of blackened antler. Donning Beshaba's scared symbol, she silently voiced an orison in honor of the Maid of Misfortune, the goddess to whom she had sworn lifelong fealty.

The false Tymoran cleric pulled a long, fur-trimmed, black cloak off the back of her chair and fastened it about her slender shoulders. She took one last, long look in the mirror. Sparkling eyes, seductive smile, an easy-going charm, and nubile body – these were her preferred weapons, which she happily used in pursuit of her goddess' goals.

She'd used those 'weapons' on Sister Morssi and Brother Gregory, but ultimately to no avail. Morssi's seduction had been fun, but had taken too long. Iliss had not been able to pry the secret command words from the young, besotted Reliquarian. And when, at month end, those duties had transferred to Gregory, Iliss' affections went with them.

Gregory, too, had been unshakeable in honoring his duties. Oh, he boasted about what work he was directed to do by Kelln and the Sacristor, and had given some details of the treasures and traps that lay in the Reliquary. But never had she been able to get him to share the knowledge of how to avoid them.

With time running out, and her charms having failed twice – that was unheard! What was it about Tymorans? - Iliss had been ordered to take more direct action. Brother Gregory was always one to boast about his duties, thus she knew when he was tasked to retrieve items from the Reliquary. It was not difficult to excuse herself from the temple before Vespers, hide in a hallway, follow the callow acolyte to the Reliquary, and watch him disarm the deadly devices. Once he had entered the room, she knew it was safe to proceed. She slipped in behind him.

She'd had no qualms about knifing the young man in the back.

But then Kelln had come stomping down the corridor, yelling for Gregory. Iliss had no time to search out her prize – she'd barely had time to flee further down the hallway and into darkness before the Master had reached the Reliquary.

Then a minor hell had broken loose. People coming and going. The Preceptress herself standing guard? But Iliss had managed to draw Alline away from the Reliquary, and slip back inside and acquire the Trysech. The object of her goddess' desire was beautiful. She briefly considered disobeying her orders, and taking the relic out of the temple complex herself. Surely, she could get the Trysech past the confused and fearful priests milling about the Temple?

But orders were orders, and the cleric Braxes was not a man to be crossed. She took the relic deeper into the catacombs, using a simple light coin to illuminate her way. Iliss dropped the relic at the foot of a ramp and tapped the wall several times with her blade. She retreated back up the ramp, as she had been instructed. Pausing at the head of the ramp, she looked back in time to see a large spider crawl out of the dark and approach the holy item. It gathered up the relic and scuttled away.

In the confusion created by Gregory's death, his murderer easily slipped out of the temple and returned to the simple rooms let to "Sister" Iliss. A very different looking woman was about to leave the tenement.

Iliss carefully picked up her vampiric dagger from where it lay on the table, its long thin blade catching the lanterns' light. The metal cross guard was intricately wrought to resemble leathery wings, the bone haft had the likeness of a scaly neck, and the pommel was carnelian, carved in the form of a bat head.

Ah, if her dagger had been able to drink more deeply of Brother Gregory's blood and life-force, she would have left a powerful undead to stalk Tymora's lower galleries! But, disturbed by that heavy footed, loud-mouthed Kelln, she'd only had time to let the dagger drink sparsely. Well, even a ghoul might do some harm to the damned Tymorans!

Iliss slid the knife into a sheath on her belt, wrapped the cloak close about her, and exited her rooms. All that was left for her to do was to take a leisurely walk to the canal, where a private ferry awaited her, cross the canal, board a coach, and she'd be off to much superior lodgings in the Scribes Quarter. Braxes would be pleased with her work.

* * *

Iliss' heart was pounding. She had trouble catching her breath. There it was again! A shadow flitting across the street behind her. It was still following her!

The moment she had left her slummy rooms she got the feeling that she was being watched. At this late hour of the night, with dawn still hours away, there were few people about. But odd noises behind her, and glimpses of a dark form, convinced her that this night she was not alone on the dark streets of Capitol. She could have sworn she'd heard her name called twice, from out of gloomy alleyways.

She had to reach the canal! It was just ahead. She could see the silvery waters reflecting torchlight at the far end of the street. She was going to make it! She quickened her already fast pace. Almost there!

* * *

Tracking Iliss had been easy for Tymora's Divine Seeker. She'd had a bit of fun at the woman's expense, but it was now time to end the chase and bring Gregory's murderer to justice. She called out Iliss' name one last time.

* * *

"Ill-isss."

Iliss jumped as her name was whispered from behind her. Whirling, she turned to face her pursuer. Something stepped from the shadowed alley – no, it was a 'someone'. She could not make out any details, but it was man or a tall woman.

"Who are you? I have no coin! Please, do not harm me", Iliss wailed, hoping to attract a watchman or rare passerby.

Diffuse starlight, coupled with feeble torchlight from a stable across the street, weakly illuminated Iliss. Her stalker was so positioned that Iliss could not make out any details of their face.

* * *

Daelynn marvelled at the woman's acting ability. Wide, tear-filled eyes, trembling mouth, hands held out, one imploring mercy, the other fending off a terror. She really portrayed the fearful girl quite well.

"Master Kelln wishes to speak with you on a matter of murder", said Daelynn in the terse Northern tones she used when operating as thief or Seeker on the streets of Capitol.

Iliss' mind was as sharp as her dagger. If this person was sent from Kelln then she'd not be able to play the innocent. Based on their voice, the person confronting her was likely female, young and a Norther. She quickly changed tactics to something less subtle, something to confuse or entice a simple barbarian.

"You sound like a Norther", her voice purred. "I've never met a Norther before. What is your name?"

Iliss' face and body had altered, smoothly changing – eyes narrowed, mouth smiled seductively, her body relaxed, as she opened her cloak. One hand making a small gesture of seduction and greeting used by followers of Sune, the other hand reaching down to her belt and dagger.

Iliss' small hand movements and eyes, which carried more than hint of promise, were a practiced combination used to draw her prey's focus to her face. And the voice? It held such an appeal! Daelynn leaned forward. Iliss' smile and eyes continued to work their magic as her hand stole to her belt and dagger.

Daelynn's fist struck Iliss hard on the left side of her head, rocking the woman back against a wooden wall, and breaking the "_Allure_" spell she'd been casting. Daelynn was impressed, again. The woman had skills. On another, her magics and natural appeal might have worked. But, like many elves, Daelynn was sensitive to charms and enthrallment spells. Her encounter with a Deva a few years ago had heightened that awareness.

Iliss collapsed against the wall, cradling her face, and covering her left eye.

"Oh! My eye", she whimpered. "You have taken my eye. I cannot see!"

Iliss' mind raced. Who was this person? She was immune to her charms, natural and arcane. So be it. She had one weapon left.

"Crap", responded Daelynn. "Your tricks will not help you."

The sound of a carriage caught Daelynn's attention. She cast a quick glance behind her. That should be Kelln.

Like a coiled snake, Iliss struck, her vampiric dagger speeding towards Daelynn's exposed breast. Exposed, but not unprotected. Before Iliss could understand what was happening, Daelynn's right hand flashed forward, grabbing Iliss' wrist. The pressure forced her hand to spasm, dropping the dagger. Iliss was pushed back against the wall, again. Her stalker stooped and caught the dagger in her left hand before it could strike the ground. Beshaba! The Tymoran had disarmed her! But her dagger could be used in another manner.

Straightening, Daelynn held the dagger up to catch what light was available in the street.

"This is what you used to kill Brother Gregory", she asked?

"Yes. Gregory… and you", answered the Beshaban agent, in a flat deadly tone. "_Nikto_", she snarled!

Upon voicing the command, the dagger in Daelynn's hand writhed, transforming into a minor vampiric demon. Clawed, leathery wings forcefully grabbed the elf's hand. The metal blade became a snakelike tail that tightly wrapped itself about her wrist. The creature's neck arched, and its bat-like head with gleaming fangs, lunged for Daelynn's forearm.

As fast as the demon was, Tymora's Divine Seeker was faster.

It was over almost before Iliss could grasp what was happening. The stranger's free hand moved in a blur, grabbing the bat head before it could strike. Both hands twisted, then pulled apart, each dropping an item. Torn in two, the demon was released, free to return to whatever hell from which it had been called. The remnants of the dagger clattered to the ground. The blade and guard, now twisted, useless metal. The creature's bestial head, once again resembling carved red stone, shattered on the cobblestone street.

Iliss slumped against the wall, staring at the broken remains of her once prized weapon.

The carriage pulled up beside them. Two men dressed in grey robes clambered out. One of them was Master Kelln.

"Sister Iliss", Kelln declared. "You are charged with murder, theft, aiding a Dark Power, impersonating a cleric of a true faith, disruption of temple functions, and bringing into disrepute a churchly establishment".

_Goddess_, mused Daelynn. The man could make the most serious of pronouncements sound pompous.

"As these are crimes against our church", Kelln continued, "or crimes that took place on church grounds, you will be tried by a Tymoran court!"

He grasped Iliss by the arm and pushed her towards the waiting carriage. Turning, the woman struck the esteemed cleric, directing numerous profanities and maledictions towards him, his Preceptress, and Tymorans, generally.

Daelynn watched the two priests grapple with Iliss, ready to lend a hand should the Beshaban agent prove too difficult for them to handle. They had almost forced Iliss into the coach, when she momentarily broke free of their hands. Rather than trying to flee, she stopped and looked directly at Daelynn. Clutching her pendant, Iliss pointed an accusing finger at the elf.

"And you, you creature of shadows! May spiders devour your flesh! May the Maid of Misfortune strike you down this very night! May you never see this day's sun!"

Kelln and his assistant increased their efforts, subduing the woman and confining her to the carriage. Someone must have placed a blanket or hood over Iliss, as the volume of her harangue decreased. From what Daelynn could make out, the attempt to silence her only increased the level of profanity and inventiveness of the dire fates which she called down upon Kelln. As Iliss was no cleric, Beshaba herself would have to intervene to curse Kelln. Knowing what she did of deities, Daelynn doubted that Lady Doom would bother.

* * *

By the time Daelynn reached her house, a faint glow in the east heralded a new day. A day she hoped to sleep through, avoiding her mother, if at all possible. She opened the tall metal gate and stepped onto the rough flagging stones of the small courtyard. Almost immediately, a large mastiff jumped out of the night's fading shadows and loped over to her, tail wagging.

"Hey, Big-boy. Is Dancer inside?"

The dog's tail stopped wagging. He turned his large head, and gazed at the wooden, double door across the courtyard, letting a soft growl escape his throat.

"Ah, well. Too bad. She will be staying a few days, at least."

The dog looked up at his mistress and whined.

"My thoughts, too. Let us enjoy this hour! We may not have much peace for a while."

Daelynn closed the gate to the roadway. The city was waking. A coach drove by, followed by a few men on horseback. Some masons, who had been working at a neighbouring house all week, arrived and started dressing stone blocks that were piled in that home's entranceway. A few birds twittered. Daelynn could hear the calls of merchants echoing up from the small market square at the foot of her street.

The chill night air was rapidly being heated by the rising orb, which peaked out between the tall stone houses across the street. Daelynn closed her eyes, enjoying the caress of the warm sun against her face. The elf leaned against the gate for several minutes, eyes closed, enjoying the sounds of the city, until Big-boy bumped his head against her hip.

"You are right", she said, straightening and looking down at the beast. "Time to face mother."

Daelynn took a last look out at the street. Maybe she could sneak past Dancer and get a few hours rest?

The sun was now a red, fuzzy half-ball sitting on the horizon, almost risen, but partly obscured by fog. Where had that come from? Odd weather, she thought, turning towards her house.

She frowned. The house and yard were also half-hidden by mist! Turning back to the look out the gate she now saw only a uniform grayness, darkening to black. A darkness spell? She reached out and grasped a bar on the gate. It was only inches away, but she could not see even that! Her darkvision showed her nothing. Even in the deepest shadows or in the middle of a _globe of darkness_ spell, her darkvision should show something! She paused and listened. The stone workers to the south continued hammering. She heard a horse plod by. Two women were talking about the price of meat at the market, their voices and footsteps carried past her position at the gate.

Daelynn reached down to stroke her dog's head. Fumbling, she found his leather and chain collar, grasping it firmly with her left hand.

The dog whined.

"Big-boy? House! Go to the house", she ordered.

The mastiff tried to pull away, heading to the doors. Daelynn held on tightly.

"Slowly. Go slowly", she said as she stumbled on the flagstones, following the dog, with her right arm stretched out before her.

"It would seem that Iliss' faith in her goddess was not misplaced", she said to Big-boy, recalling the Beshaban's imprecations against her. "I am quite blind."

END –


End file.
